The Wild, Wilting Rose
by ColletteTook
Summary: Samwise returns to the Shire and finds that the hardest adventure of all is falling in love. Rose is wilting from many things,can Sam save her?
1. Default Chapter

I have found my solace in romance stories. Welcome back to me, I haven't been on for quite a while, and my stories have brightened a bit due to the light that have illuminated my life. This story is for Jake, my Sam.  
  
The night was high then and the stars shone on Bag End with particular fondness, as Sam and Rosie took their first steps as Newly-Weds. Frodo was thin and weary, and his days were now passing, his time was spent, but he sat down to start one last story, and that was how this wild gardener managed to charm and tame a wild rose:  
  
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Rose looked out her dark window, stained with tear-like raindrops in a near state of depression. The road was dark and harassed, there was none to do for her father had forbidden her to leave the cottage for anything of the sort, the ruffian's plundered even nearer these days, and Farmer Cotton had let his crops go to waste in an effort to protect his family. Before "The darkness" came, she had had many suitors, all of high rank and estate, and now she cried. "I see no reason in waiting dearest, he's not coming back" her mother had tried to softly reprimand after she had bitterly sent another hobbit lad from her door. "I'll wait for you Samwise" she sobbed now. She laid her head on the windowsill and cried bitter tears as she gave up hope, he was dead to her.  
  
That moment, in Mordor, as if Sam had heard her voice as he half-carried Frodo up the side of Mount Doom, he thought to himself "I miss you Rosie, don't you worry lass I'm hurryin' as fast as I can, I promise".  
  
Chapter was short because its an introduction. I will have more later I promise. 


	2. Back to be Banished

_~*Im back, hallo, hallo! Excuse my absence, as if you missed me at all.. I have been slaving over my novel as well as a website I have been laboring with my own flesh and blood (no, not literally, sheesh) to keep. For all you Fan Fic writers, Tolkien Artists and Role-players, why don't you come check it out? ~*~-  
  
http://pub56.ezboard.com/bantibarrowdowns  
  
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Rosie lay in her cold wicker chair by the empty windowsill knitting a gray; lifeless looking stocking that reflected all her feelings. She glanced over at the sill once more, still no face staring back at her, not ANY face let alone the one she longed to see and touch once more. "Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake! Fire, Foes, Awake!" Rosie jumped from her chair and instinctively fisted her knitting needle into a sort of defensive device. "No need for that Rose Lass, now you go an' help yer mum." Said Farmer Cotton, and led his sturdy young lads out the door with him. The road was fogged and dark, but they could still make out a figure in the distance, astride a pony. They raised their weapons, but then "Nay! Its not one of them ruffians" Tolman cried. The figure continued to plod forward. "Hey! Who are you, and what's all this to-do?" The small, well built figure, still cloaked in shadow, but no more menacing than the pony it rode, jumped down in positive glee. "Its Sam. Sam Gamgee, Ive come back."  
  
Rose was looking curiously out the window, squint-eyed and heart pounding. No! It couldn't be- Farmer Cotton came up close and stared at him in the twilight. 'Well! The voice is right, and your face is no worse than it was, Sam. But I should a'passsed you in the street in that gear. You've been in foreign parts seemingly. We feared you were dead." "That I ain't!" Sam said, the smile upon his face spreading ever wider. "Nor mr.frodo. He's here and his friends. And that's the to-do. They're raising the shire. Were going to clear out these ruffians and their chief too. Were starting now"  
  
Rose watched him from the window, dressed in his mail and his gear of Lorien and of Mordor, face smudged, hair frizzed, and she loved him. He was dressed unrecognizably, and he was dirty to the point of undiscerntation, but through the gloom, and the gear and the dirt shone his bright eyes and she loved him, though her heart was bitter with longing to run out to talk to him, she restrained herself, as he was now striding semi-confidently to the front door. Mrs.Cotton herself graciously opened it for Sam, whom she had favored above all her daughter's other admirers. "Good Evening, Mrs. Cotton! " Sam smiled politely. "Hullo Rosie!" he said, now tinning a little, even through the smudges on his face and in the dimness of the oil light. "Hullo Sam!" said Rosie, not blushing in the slightest, though her heart was thrumming, near out of rhythm, and the hands clasped neatly in the folds of her skirt were trembling with pure joy and excitement, and it took every ounce of effort not to throw her arms about him then. Instead she went cold with a 'Where've you been? They said you were dead; but ive been expecting you since spring. You haven't hurried have you?" Now you've gone and done it lass! Scare the lad away after he's finally come home at last! She thought to herself. "Perhaps not."Sam said, looking quite abashed, biting his colorless lips in the frost and cold outside. "But I'm hurrying now. Were setting about the ruffians and ive got to get back to Mr. Frodo. But I thought id have a look and see how Mrs. Cotton was keeping and you Rosie." He said in his own quite apology. For some reason the softness of his voice and the bitterness of the frost outside stirred Rosie's temper. "Well, be off with you! If you've been looking after Mr. Frodo all this while, what d'you want to leave him for, as soon as things look dangerous?" Sam looked very hurt indeed, and strode off to his pony, to vent to himself as he plodded onwards again. 'Now you've really put your foot in it Rose!' she cursed almost aloud. "I think you look fine Sam, Go on now! But take care of yourself and come straight back as soon as you have settled the ruffians!"  
  
12/27/02-Happy Anniversary to me.  
  
By Collette Took 


	3. Surrendering

Happy Yule to all. Happy Anniversary to me this Friday. Here's the next chapter.  
  
---*1 Month Later*---  
  
Rosie awoke at dawn mornings later, dazed and grieved. She put on her usual gray looking apron, though it shone a bit more confidently on her today, as did her favorite azure lace dress, as she slipped it over her auburn curl- decored head and tied it tight about her waist. The sun came, and the Shire was as bright and cheerless as the beautiful lass, barren it was, and cold it was, but free and theirs. The rain outside had finally stopped, and the morning was cool and fresh. She pulled back her hair and started with her outside chores to enjoy the beautiful morn. She labored (and would later regret it) over the axe as she chopped wood mercilessly synchronizing herself with the ever thrumming thud of the axe, ever thrumming, thrumming droning, droning, thrumming thrumming, and she found peace in her toiled heart. "Rose dear, stop now!" she heard her father behind her. She willed her hands to stop, and now that she had, a weakness came over her and she wanted ever so badly to just lay down and die, fall to the ground and stop, just stop. The axe would not leave her hand though, and there stood Sam behind her father, looking grim and tired, and wishing maybe something similar. Rose lowered her eyes to the ground in an instinctive guesture, as Farmer Cotton said softly, "Rose lass, why don't you go heat up a cup of tea for myself and young master Gamgee." As he leaned on his spade.  
  
Sam watched the shadow of his Rose fade away in the darkness of the hole to wherest she was confined, and was it a wonder why he stared at her so, in such a concerned way, for the girl was weeping as she worked and obviously did not realize it herself. "Why does she cry so?" Sam asked Tom softly, more than empathetically, for it was breaking the poor man's heart to see Rosie so. Tom shrugged. "Women and Daughters are peculiar things Sam, you may learn that soon- one minute they've got a smile wider than the Anduin itself on their face, an' then the next they're a'crying as they chop firewood" Tom shook his head. "I dunno Sam, tricky business it is, bein' a husband and a father, a man cant live with out 'em though." This did not help Sam much, only confused him, until the farmer beckoned him inside, and he was bade to forget it again, as Rosie's head loomed back into view with the tea and sugar. Her cheeks looked a little brighter now though, and a hint of a smile played her heart shaped lips as she sipped her tea quietly, and Sam was questioned over and over again about his adventures by Nick and Nibs. She even giggled a bit behind her cup at Sam's exasperation as he repeated himself like a broken record. Sam saw the smile, and the giggle, and her slip back into somberness as she caught his eye. "Rosie would you like to go for a walk?" Sam asked her, after slipping away from her brothers, and daring as far as pulling back her curls and whispering it in her ear. I was an automatic blush, as Sam wondered at his own courage. "Going abroad has changed you Sam!" Said Rose, even more stunned than he. He went a shade darker. But nevertheless, they were out into the afternoon, watching with dark eyes, the turmoil of the ruffians just finishing being cleaned. Rosie was unearthly quiet for some time. "They destroyed all the plants in the Shire.." She murmured finally after they passed the barren party field. Sam's sigh was empathetically paining. "It will be fixed though." He said softly and confidently. "And confidence too now.." Rosie laughed quietly. "What's on your mind Rose? What bothers you so?" Sam said, not looking in her general direction. "I feel as though my heart may break in two, like it is swelling until I cant bear it" she said, putting a soft hand to her breast. "I don't understand.." Sam began. "Neither do I, but here we are." Rosie said, as they rounded a full circle and were back in front of the Cotton farm. "I will visit often Rosie, with your leave" "Goodbye Sam" she said, leaving him in the twilight. Sam came home to the newly restored Bag End later that night with a troubled face and heart, though of course he would not say, nor heed any inquires from Frodo or Pippin and Merry. 'Poor Rose' he thought, 'pinin' away like her life has already been spent or some silliness, like she is old and dying and everyone else is watching her fade, or wilt. Nah, she's different though, and I WILL find out what troubles her poor soul, but shes not like the other Rose's, not a flower is as sweet as her, nor as such a sad beauty, that's what she is: A Wild, Wilting Rose'  
  
------------------ -------------- Thankyou Chiad for your constructive criticism, it was a good review, but its not mistakes, its my writing style. Thankyou lordoftheringsfan, I'm glad for your flattery Thankyou Elemmire for your kindness, it will not go overlooked Thankyou Daisy G. for following my story, I will work hard in your name 


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